When The Doctor Squished Graham's Sandwich
by Mariadoria
Summary: And how Graham decided to gain revenge on the Doctor for it.


"Doctor, what are you doing?" An exasperated Graham O'Brien clumsily picked his way through the haphazard field, hissing as a sharp leaf prodded his leg. "Normal people do not eat nettles!"

The Doctor sprang up, twigs and bits of bark sticking out of her very messy hair. She grinned at Graham through her chewing of the nettles. Graham pinched the bridge of his nose. This strange alien was such a child.

"No need to worry, Graham! This regeneration is very resistant to formic acid, as I found out a few days ago. And I've never eaten a nettle directly out of the field. Thought I would try it and see if I liked it!" She swallowed, before grimacing. "I don't."

"That should teach you for eating nettles!" called out a very amused Yaz, who was currently sitting on a very fat stump with Ryan. They were both annoyed at the Doctor for taking them to a field just so she could eat nettles. The the nettle field was directly after a fantastic adventure with gelatinous entities who attempted to absorb an entire city so they had access to a biscuit factory. The anticlimax was real. At least the Doctor thought it was exciting.

"Never know until you've tried, Yaz!"

"And how did that go for you?"

"I've not got an awful aftertaste, but now I know that I hate nettles. Look at the positives!"

Graham shook his head. That should be common sense. He slowly made his way through the field, careful not to get his foot caught in a rabbit hole or under a stumpy mound.

Loud, thumping footsteps sounded from behind him. Graham turned around and raised an eyebrow at the Doctor running through the field with incredibly high knees, coat flapping around her ankles. A manic grin covered her face.

Suddenly, her right foot caught in a rabbit hole. She squeaked and hurtled forward, bowling Graham over and into the ground. He gasped in shock, before scowling at the Doctor. She was brilliant, he wouldn't deny that, but so idiotic at times that he wondered how she was even able to survive.

"Doctor, be careful please."

"Where's the fun in that?"

"You don't bowl me over, which is fun for me." The Doctor sent him a curious glance, tilting her head slightly to the side. Graham was reminded of a very uncoordinated kitten, who constantly tripped over its own legs.

"I suppose." She pushed herself upwards, and Graham heard an awful squelching noise coming from his right breast pocket. The Doctor heard it too. She scrambled to her feet, bolting across the field towards Yaz and Ryan's fat stump, giving Graham a pie eating grin.

She knew _exactly_ what she had done.

A very disappointed Graham reached into his pocket and pulled out a mess of bread, salad, ham and dressing. There was even still bits of rogue lettuce in his pocket, which would take an age to clean out, even in the TARDIS.

"You won't get away with this, Doctor!" cried Graham, waving the ruined sandwich high in the air. He pointed threateningly at her. "Mark my words, I will gain my revenge! You will feel my wrath!"

All he heard in return was raucous laughter.

* * *

"Mmmmm," sighed the Doctor, holding a steaming mug of tea under her nose, inhaling the fumes. "There really is nothing like a good cup of tea. Thanks for making this, Graham. Glad to see you've moved on from the Sandwich incident."

"No problem," said Graham. It was only him and the Doctor in the kitchen at the moment. Ryan and Yaz were off doing something, most likely in the 'arcade' they found yesterday. Ryan was extremely excited about the four-dimensional paintball, so they were probably playing that.

The Doctor took a sip of the tea, only to immediately spit it across the table. Along with a very large nettle head. Graham dodged out of the way, keeping a blank face, while the Doctor was gobsmacked.

"I trusted you, Graham O'Brien!"

"Your mistake, Doctor." He then booked it out of the kitchen with the rest of the hot tea followed in his wake, splashing onto the floor.

* * *

Graham softly placed the Doctor's sock back inside her boot, which was on the floor of the console room. She was currently seeing how realistic the gravel in the quarry they'd landed in was. Apparently she wanted to check that it was real, and not just a very convincing, corporeal hologram. Graham decided not to go, as it gave him the perfect opportunity to slip a large nettle into her sock.

She would be back any minute now, probably ranting about how her feet were almost impaled with sharp, pointy rocks and how she should have been more clever about it.

Right on time, the doors to the TARDIS burst open, with a very irate Doctor stomping through, muttering under her breath.

"Of course the gravel turned out real. Blast the quarry! I should have been so more clever about this!"

Called it.

"Your boots are over here, Doctor." She didn't reply, just snatched them off the floor and awkwardly tried to put her socks on. Huffing, she sat cross legged on the floor and pulled her left sock on, letting the elastic snap dramatically against her leg.

"That elastic is the perfect demonstration of my irritation!"

"Right, Doctor," said Graham. It was only a waiting game, now.

An shocked squawk sounded from the Doctor, before she yanked the other sock off her foot. It flapped around, before a nettle fell out of it, softly landing on the floor.

"GRAHAM!"

* * *

"So, Doctor. Is there anything you want to tell me?"

It was a week later, and Graham was officially out of the hundreds of nettles he had gathered at the field. He'd put them in her pillow, stuffed her coat pockets full of them when she wasn't looking, hidden one in her hairbrush and so many more.

The Doctor was sitting petulantly in front of his, refusing to admit anything.

"No."

"Oh my gosh, you're such a disaster," exclaimed Graham. "You're two-thousand years old, yet act like an out of control eleven year old. All you need to do is apologise about squishing my sandwich."

The Doctor leaned forward. "That is what this is about? You _sandwich_?" She was incredibly incredulous. "Well, if that's all it is, I'm sorry for squishing your sandwich. Will that stop you putting nettles at the base of my bed?"

"Yes. Thank you."

"Great. Now, do you want to hold a funeral for it, or is that too much?"

Graham face palmed and left the Doctor to wonder what she'd said wrong.

* * *

 _Just a small thing that popped into my head. I had to write it very quickly, as my parents are harping at me to get off. So, one-thousand words in an hour. Not bad, if I say so myself. I think it's quite a fun story._

 _Sincerely,  
Mariadoria_


End file.
